


Cosmonaut

by LocketShoru



Category: Saint Seiya, 聖闘士星矢: 冥王神話 | Saint Seiya: The Lost Canvas
Genre: AAverse, Anthropomorphic, Fluff, Griffon Victoire, Lemon, Mild Gore, OCs include:, Other, Smut, Wyvern Rose, kinda i mean lugonis is more catgirl anthro than furry anthro he's got fins n stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:14:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22047697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LocketShoru/pseuds/LocketShoru
Summary: There are few things that the Pisces Surplice enjoys more than righteous violence. A peaceful day spent eating cake and not being productive at all is one of them, sometimes. Their fiance? No competition. Lugonis wins every time.
Relationships: Pisces Lugonis/Pisces Surplice
Comments: 10
Kudos: 4





	Cosmonaut

**Author's Note:**

> Translation notes: sevastó = Greek for 'revered', context is that it's used for a Gold Saint who isn't an enemy but hasn't called a Gold Surplice yet. 'Mo grá' = Gaeilge for 'my love', self-explanatory.  
> If you're not sure how the fuck the Pisces Surplice got involved, go read Armour Adventures, it'll explain that much. Griffon Victoire and Wyvern Rose are the parental figures and mentors of Minos and Rhadamanthys respectively. My profile has a link to my toyhou.se with their bios if you're interested.  
> Otherwise, timeline's simple. Thirty years or so to the Holy War of TLC, no children have appeared so far. Lugonis and Luco are roughly 24-25. Luco and Ilias got married recently, but they have not discovered Arkhes or the idea of an OT3 yet. Leo is just big mad about Spectres existing in general.

Pisces sighed, feeling it from their gorget to their tassets and the tips of their fins, breathing in Lugonis’ sweet, armour-polish and seasalt scent. There was nothing quite like this, the peaceful moments, where they could lean up against their fiance with their helmet on his chest, his arm across the small of their back, and blissfully not have to move for a few hours. Lugonis was reclined on the sofa up against the far wall of Luco’s living room, and they had settled onto his chest with their boots between his legs, tassets positioned just low enough that they wouldn’t stab him in the thighs with the sharper points. They had done that an awful lot, lately, and felt it was enough to just settle on top of him and blissfully _relax_. 

It wasn’t often that they were called outside of the Holy War, and most of their peace came from the stolen moments of a sleeping bearer at Lughnasadh or the long, dead-silent years of hibernation. This was a novelty, and they prized every moment that they could rest here, gauntlets by their helmet and Lugonis’ arms resting just above their tassets. Oh, _and_ they had a blanket, just to keep his body heat from moving too far from them.

Honestly, Pisces wasn’t too sure what surprised them most about the situation they presently found themself in: that Lugonis had knelt before them and asked them to marry him and perform the rites of courtship, or that he had been willing to be near them like this at all. He’d always been a bit wilder than they had expected: Pisces Saints, and the Spectres that followed, tended to be slow-burning with sharp explosions of anger. Lugonis was all fire, warm and incandescent and an inferno of passion, always, and he had paused long enough to sweep them off their boots and keep going together.

Voices drifted from the kitchen about ten feet away from them, Luco carefully mixing some poultice or another on the counter and Ilias at the dining table, chopping up finally-dried herbs, talking quietly to each other. Dryad had settled on the armchair on the other side of the living room, and the Leo Cloth, who emanated mostly resignation with a dash of gratitude for the comfortable spot, had claimed the other sofa for their own. Rather, Ilias had placed them there, but it was all the same.

Lugonis’ head shifted as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of their helmet, near where their forehead might have been. They let out a hum and shifted a little upwards, closer to him, returning the kiss against his collarbone, allowing it to invade the airspace within. It probably felt like something had actually touched him. His gills opened, ever so slightly, and he made a quiet hiss of approval through them.

Really, everything was perfect. There was little that could ruin this moment, so long as it didn’t require moving. Lugonis traced two fingers over the rivets in the back of their tassets, feeling the notches of how the metal had been carved and shaped and forged. They pressed the kneeplate of their boot a little into the cushion, rising up enough to press another kiss to the side of his neck, just below his gills. He didn’t at the moment have fins, and it would have been difficult to lay on his back with them, shark as he was, but it was rare he allowed his body to shift human enough that he didn’t have gills on his ribs and the sides of his neck. Most of the time, he just let his hair and shirt hide them if he had to.

He made another noise, and they kissed his neck again, the fingers of their gloves tracing up from the high point of his chest to wrap one around his neck, the other drifting to his shoulder. Another hiss escaped his gills.

“If you two start making moves on each other in my damn living room, I’m gutting you both,” Luco called, fifteen feet away on the other side of the room. Pisces looked up, meeting Luco’s gaze and the amusement in his Cosmos.

“Says the one who took five years to finally notice he had a crush on Leo-sevastó,” they answered curtly, indicating a slight nod in Ilias’ direction. He looked up from the herbs he was cutting, one eyebrow quirked up, a slight smile on his face.

“Perhaps so,” Ilias agreed, “but he isn’t wrong. I don’t think we need to see that, and besides, anyone could come through the door right now.”

“Most of the Meikai has seen me without clothes on and Cici doesn’t exactly wear any on account of being a surplice, so I think the lot of you should just suffer,” Lugonis piped up, his chin tilted towards them as he glowered at his brother-in-law, Cosmos matching his twin brother’s amusement and a hand still at their hip. “I suppose we _could_ get a room, but you’d still have to listen to it.”

“I will kick you two out,” Luco mock-threatened, and Pisces laughed. They would have rolled their eyes if they had them, and felt the idea roll through them. He would, if pushed, but they didn’t feel like pushing him that far, at least not without a few more playful insults. 

Dryad looked up from where they were sitting, mostly curled up on the armchair and evidently just recharging from the last mission. “If they are kicked out, what does that mean for the rest of us?” they asked mildly, Cosmos flaring obviously-false innocence.

The Leo Cloth’s Cosmos gave a sharp spike of disapproval, incapable of moving but certainly still listening and giving their opinion on the matter as clearly as possible. They glanced over, eyeing them for a moment, and settled back down on Lugonis’ chest, finding a comfortable position and reaching for his free hand. He took the hint and linked his fingers with their glove, settling back down and pulling the blanket up the back of their breastplate a little. He set his other arm back onto them, closing his eyes.

For a few moments, they found themself simply relaxing in his embrace, allowing their Cosmos to stop floating and rest against him, feeling the edges soften and mix with his. HIs was a deeper blue to their dark violet, filled with stars, and their breathing aligned, until the rise and fall of his chest was equal to the pulse of their Cosmos, and they really, really didn’t want to move. They didn’t need to actually be able to see him to know how sweet he looked. He was, after all, their fiance, and they had spend many a day tracing out the planes of his face and borrowing his body enough to study it in the mirror as they danced.

The front door slammed open, a sharp and blinding gray Cosmos at the threshold as it quickly crossed it, slamming the door back shut and locking the deadbolt. Griffon Victoire’s breath was ragged in the air, Cosmos pulsing with a desperation of a man who really, really didn’t want to do his job and figured Luco’s place was the best way to avoid his older sisters.

“Hey, Vic,” Lugonis called, eyes still evidently closed, his grip on their tassets tightening just enough. Not enough to worry, enough to claim what was his in the presence of someone who had not been there a moment ago. For someone who was raised a Saint, he’d learned Spectre ways pretty well indeed.

“I’m hiding in here until Rose decides I don’t have to write up the tithe report from the Mirror,” Victoire announced, turning on his heel and dropping into a seat beside Ilias, releasing Griffon from their dance and allowing them to bound over to the available spot beside Leo, who didn’t feel too pleased about it.

“A pity, for I have no intentions on making a cake sweet enough to placate her when she inevitably discovers your sanctum here and Rides you to ground,” Luco answered, his voice silky smooth and utterly sarcastic. Pisces heard him shake the poultice he had been mixing, rough and evidently thick.

“I didn’t start it! Madeleine forgot to do it and Rose is going to make me do it because she thinks it’s a learning experience like I haven’t been doing this for a decade,” Victoire protested. “I’m older than she is, damn it!”

“You certainly act the part,” Pisces remarked dryly, the face of the helmet mostly buried in Lugonis’ hair without actually muffling their voice.

“Oh, don’t get him started, _mo grá_ ,” Lugonis murmured, his voice soft against them, promising all the sweetness in the world. Something fluttered in the airspace of their gorget at the nickname, a novelty they didn’t think they’d ever actually had before. Leo flared their cosmos again with disapproval and a slight taste of revulsion. Pisces turned toward them slightly.

“ _You_ get a room, if it matters so much to you,” they snipped back, deeply aware at what the Cloth meant. “I am doing nothing wrong by taking the chance to relax and so perhaps fall asleep here, where the world is wondrous and the screaming of the damned is little more than a background lullaby.”

“Surplices don’t really need to sleep, though,” Griffon pointed out. “I certainly don’t, and neither do you. I should think you miss out on enough of the play as you wait, let alone have all the time you might in these short decades and yet still you think of sleeping? That is certainly a waste of your time, when there are other things you could do.”

Pisces huffed. “Perhaps you do not see the value in relaxing where the bloodshed cannot reach, but I for one think it a wondrous opportunity to rest as I may within the arms of someone I am not about to lose. If you perchance took the time, _dear_ Griffon, to rest as I may, you would perhaps find your bearer less harried from all you put the poor mortal through.”

“And bonding just got weird again,” Victoire muttered, and Pisces heard the soft thump of him dropping his entire body weight on Ilias’ side. Griffon only laughed, not bothering to hide their mirth. Dryad let out a loud sigh, scooped Griffon up, and dropped them somewhat unceremoniously in the armchair they had just vacated, and claimed the spot beside Leo, as if to offer a silent alliance of ‘our bearers are married and everyone else is crazy people’. Leo’s annoyance faded in their starlit air, returning to a resignation and calm neutrality.

Pisces calmly ignored Dryad reaching over and petting them, and they squeezed Lugonis’ hand. He returned it, not drawing his attention to the other humans as they started up a calm conversation about the state of affairs. Luco and Lugonis had both claimed Garuda, and neither particularly listened to Madeleine anyway. Ilias had decided on honourary Wyvern, as he had not called the Leo Surplice and likely never would. Pisces did miss their sibling, a little, but ultimately it had still been two thousand years and unlikely to be anytime soon that they would return. Victoire was still the Griffon Spectre, and his reports would have been useful if they’d cared to listen, but ah, war was a distant nightmare and for now, Lugonis smelled like armour-polish and seasalt, the perfect combination of Elysium.

The door shook, suddenly, of someone trying to open it. Victoire bolted across the room, stealing Pisces’ blanket on the way, and dove into the corner, evidently trying to hide his existence, his Cosmos flaring in sudden alarm and a sudden futility of the act. The deadbolt shifted and the door opened. Pisces didn’t bother moving, and neither did Lugonis. Wyvern Rose only opened the door, her Cosmos a telltale mixture of amusement and exhaustion.

“Boys,” she greeted, calmly. “Have any of you by chance seen my brother? He appears to have escaped again.”

“Haven’t seen him since yesterday,” Luco said.

“No clue,” Lugonis called, eyes still closed.

“Perhaps he’s off at the river again, my lady?” Ilias volunteered.

“He is only playing Hamlet where he should play Othello,” Griffon replied, casting their gaze across the room. It was almost laughable - almost. They had of course gone to see the shows with their fiance and most of their friend group, finding a marvel in donning a human disguise and pretending to be a soft city-bred lady of good breeding instead of what they were, and Lugonis had laughed and twirled them around, letting them catch the illusion of their skirt and curtsy to him, like they actually knew how. They absolutely, however, did not.

“Victoire, get out from behind the sofa and get back to Court,” Rose said, calmly, her voice easy but with a bit of steel behind it. “You are not allowed to shirk duty.”

“I don’t want to!” 

“I don’t care. I will breathe fire at you if you do n--” Rose’s voice was cut short, and after a moment: “I, yes, of course, thank you, Luco.” Pisces looked up, and there she was, holding most of a freshly baked chocolate cake that they got the feeling Victoire wasn’t going to be partaking in.

They raised a gauntlet. “Might we get some cake?”

“Cake is for people who get a room when asked,” Luco answered, pleasant and smiling and Cosmos unforgivingly cheery. They felt the roll of eyes they didn’t have, and Lugonis sat up, dislodging them from their position but his hand still on their tassets. 

“Can’t argue with that logic,” he murmured, pushing their thighplates around his hips and slowly standing. They gripped his shoulder more or less automatically, allowing him to carry them to where there was cake to be had. “I suppose that means only one thing.”

“Are you seriously going to steal my cake and run?” Luco demanded, one hand on his hip and the other holding the cake away from them.

“You know us, we’re only in it for the free food,” Lugonis answered smoothly, his smile dazzling if a little mischievous. He reached over, letting go of Pisces’ hand. Luco danced away from him, keeping the cake well out of reach. Pisces allowed themself to be carried as the two swung around the kitchen, leaning their helmet against his temple. Then they laughed as Ilias pushed a chair between them with his food, and flicked their wrist, rosevines sprouting out of the nearest potted plant and darting forward, easily stealing the plate from Luco’s grasp.

“Hey, that’s cheating!” he called, kicking off the ground to pull the rosevines down.

“Chair, meet roses,” Pisces answered, making their voice a little singsong. There was _cake_ and they were going to have it and share it only with their fiance. The rosevines snaked over Luco’s head and delivered the cake right to them, before disappearing entirely. “I suppose then, dearest one, that we must be grateful for your cake, and we must away. I am sure you understand why this must happen this way.”

“Hand over the cake, you awful fish,” Luco answered, darting towards them. Lugonis laughed and sidestepped, right around Rose’s tail and now standing between her and the door.

“We’ll return the plate later,” Lugonis sniped, and they were off.

The plate was empty of all but crumbs on the nightstand, and Lugonis was atop them, his torso bare of clothing and his lips licking the last bits of frosting from the side of their helmet. Their gauntlets were above their helmet, pinned at the wrists by his hand, the other drifting to the exposed airspace between their tassets and thighplate, stroking down the semi-solid Cosmos there, allowing it to grow more solid beneath his touch. It was a delicate art, of course, an art they doubted a Cloth could learn to do. But all thoughts were soon pushed aside as Lugonis’ lips, hot and wet and ever so warm, met the airspace of their helmet, melting plasma Cosmos to something solid enough to claim as his own. His tongue met what they thought was their own, and his hand had pushed their tassets up their breastplate. Their boots shifted, spreading, and they allowed themself to gasp, most of their Cosmos concentrated where he was touching them, pulsing with every bit of contact.

Lugonis moved up a little, pushing their thighplates farther apart, his mouth on theirs and not letting go for air that he could take through their airspace and they had never needed in the first place. The heat rose between them. They bent at the knees and pulled him in closer as he broke the kiss just long enough to smirk down at them ever so slightly.

They gasped, a little. “You are overdressed,” they murmured, incapable of fixing this with their gloves held tight above their helmet.

“And you are exquisite,” he breathed in return. The heat pooled in their exposed airspace, the jewel set in their gorget gleaming with the satisfaction of his attention. He released their gloves and they found their way immediately to his skin, one glove at his abdomen and tracing the defined muscles, the other reaching a bit farther to squeeze his ass and tug at the hem of his pants.

He moved back down to them, shifting out of his trousers, and in the darkened room the view of him through his cosmos was almost divine. Patches of scales lined his skin, hips and stomach and neck and splotched across his arms and chest hazaphardly without a care in the world, a fine dusting of red hair across his chest only to illuminate under the perspiration, fins rising from his spine and his wrists, his gills open at his ribs, marigold-red hair falling loose around his shoulders, pulled back just enough to display the gills on his neck and below them, the marks Pisces had already left earlier.

He kissed them again, his sharpened teeth drifting across their makeshift lips. They opened them in response, allowing him deeper access into the airspace of their helmet, though he drifted downwards towards their gorget, pressing a wet, open-mouthed kiss against the jewel in the centre. They let out a gasp, a bit louder this time, the Cosmos in their limbs tensing as the feeling flooded through them. A semi-solid fingered glove founds its way into his hair, keeping him there, his teeth just sharp enough to scrape against the surface, sending bolts of pleasure through them.

And then he went lower, his lips still open, drifting his tongue down their breastplate to the top of their tassets and lower, using his shoulders to push their thighplates out of the way. Pisces gasped for breath, attempting to regenerate Cosmos that was pooling rapidly under their tassets and at the metal of their throat, failing as he went farther and pushed their tassets out of the way, narrowly dodging the sharper ends, and-

Lugonis’ mouth invaded the airspace and their gasp was more than audible, their gloves tangled in his hair and his hands tight around the top of their thighplates. It felt better than they would have ever expected, the way he was moving deeper and then back out again. Their thoughts were little to nothing now under him, focused only on his movements and attempting to breathe as everything pooled to him.

It wasn’t long before they gave out under him, barely able to breathe out but enough to swear his name, enough to feel everything combine and give outward. He let them go, sitting up onto his knees, grinning and covered in glittering stardust, his kelp-green eyes sparkling with satisfaction.

Pisces lifted a wrist, holding the palm of their glove open, barely able to hold it up there as they gasped, breathless. He smiled down at them and took the offered glove, settling down at their side, brushing his lips across the side of their helmet.

“The things you _do_ ,” they remarked, voice barely above a whisper, shifting their helmet to look at him. He was beautiful in the starlight, flame-red hair turned to a dusty metallic hue in the light. He laughed, a little, and kissed them again.

“Still new, hm?” he asked, the cadence low in his tone and the fire burning like a hearth in his chest. 

“Always,” they replied, rolling over just enough to brush their airspace against his lips, ignoring the likely tear in the sheets again from their pauldron. “I think… I think this will always feel new to me, and all that I think that means is that, ah, I will experience it as strong as before. To be here, with you…”

Lugonis pulled them closer, and they acquiesced, moving to tuck their helmet into the crook of his neck, careful to allow him room to breathe and to not stab him with their fins. He bruised so much easier, and skin broke a little too easy for their liking. He pushed his leg between theirs, and the regained Cosmos started to pool again. They reached down, tracing down his spine and drifting down the dorsal fin and lower, allowing themself a teasing noise as they squeezed his ass again. He let out a hiss through his gills, a windy sort of noise, eyes briefly closed.

He pushed his torso up a bit, that smile they could never resist playing on his lips. “Caught your breath?” he murmured, flashing rows of shark teeth and a glint in his eye.

“Could I ever have stayed under long enough to not allow you to claim what is yours?” they answered, amusement flickering through them. They reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes, and he leaned into their touch, pressing a kiss to the side of their palm in answer to their question. He pulled them closer, shifting to creep over them again, pushing their thighplate out of the way until he was fully above them again, a forearm to either side of their helmet.

He grinned, sharpened teeth glinting in the starlight. They felt a transitory smile grace their cosmos, and pulled him closer, meeting airspace to flesh in a deep, starlight-filled kiss. They didn’t need any preparation, different though their physical components were, and they broke the kiss only to gasp out his name as he pushed between them, invading the airspace that seemed to make itself solid around him, the starlight pooling heavier than grease against him as he started to move.

They spread their boots a little more as he pulled them up to meet him, their tassets riding up their breastplate to where a navel might have been, and he brought himself down to kiss them, murmuring their name over and over between deep, agonizingly slow thrusts. One glove found its way back into his hair, holding him close as his tongue ran its way against semi-solid stars, the other clinging to his hip in the vague, instinctual hope that he’d never let go of them.

“F-fast _er_ ,” they moaned, emphasis on the second syllable as he pushed inward again, deep within airspace that nothing else quite managed. He nodded, lips descending again to the jewel on their gorget, and a wail of pleasure escaped them at the connection. They arched the back of their breastplate as he moved faster within them, pushing deeper, their thighplates spread a little wider to give him the room he needed. 

“Damn, _damn_ ,” they heard him whisper against the jewel, vaguely, his tongue sucking at its cabochon and Cosmos pooled in response to his touch, between their tassets and at their throat, responding as they gasped, gripping his hair and his hip, moving with him, bucking up to meet him in hopes he might get deeper.

Lugonis moved back to kiss them proper, his mouth heavier and more desperate. They moved back with equal passion, forcing the concentration necessary to reach a slightly more solid state, pulling him up by his hair to deepen the kiss just a little more.

Then he pushed deep, deeper than they expected, and another wail of pleasure escaped them, wordless and meaning his name, his gills hissing out their name in return. They bucked into them, breastplate arched in passion. His hands pressed at their tassets and lifted them almost off the bed, shifting the weight to their pauldrons. Their tassets met the hardened flesh of his abdomen and punctured.

Lugonis swore into the kiss, accidentally pushing deeper into them, driving their tassets farther into his flesh. Stars danced in the only kind of vision they had as the scent of roses invaded the heat between them, toxic and sweet and mixing with Lugonis’ cologne into something far too intoxicating. The blood was near chilly against the metal but his flesh ever so warm, offering something only too irresistible. Their Cosmos pooled and let loose, and they screamed his name, one glove gripping him so tightly they tore another wound into his hip. His second expletive of pain was cut midword by a cry escaping his swollen lips as he came. The starlight in them didn’t protest at the intrusion, welcoming it gladly within their airspace, earning another wail, catching on their breath and still continuing.

They let go when he did, relaxing their grip and pulling the tips of a bloody glove out of his hip, allowing their tassets to come free of him as he set them down on the bed. Lugonis shifted away a few inches before all but falling onto his side, the wounds already beginning to heal over, their legs still tangled. He pulled them closer, and Pisces shifted into him, tucking their helmet just below his chin, gloves coming to rest against his collar.

“Hey, _mo grá_ ,” he whispered, the Gaeilge accent slipping into his words. “You know I love you, correct?”

They laughed a little, their breathing easing, and they cuddled a little closer. “As I love you, as you are the moon to my tides, and pull me into you always,” they murmured in return, pressing a kiss to the apple of his throat. They reached for his hand, grasping it gently, feeling the Cosmos flutter as the glint of his engagement ring caught the moonlight, running their thumb across it gently.

He pushed the blanket down off of them to allow them to cool a little, uncaring who might intrude - nobody did, in their area of the Cathedral, where only those under his sign could get through maybe a third of the seals upon the doors. Even if someone did break in, all they would see was a mortal half-shark and his immortal, metal mate, in the truest sense of the word. He’d stopped being entirely human when he allowed them to claim him as Spectre and as bearer. He’d stopped thinking like one sometime after that, and he was as theirs as they were his.

They leaned closer, shifting their weight to rest more on his chest, and allowed themself to still, allowing their Cosmos to brush up against his, and mix, and melt together. For all the peace, all the stars - he was theirs, and they had eaten the cake in less than fifteen minutes, and that was about all that mattered.


End file.
